


Petals

by yamapea (foreword)



Category: Nobuta wo Produce
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-18
Updated: 2007-04-18
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreword/pseuds/yamapea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bando confronts Nobuta after she lets the flowers fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Petals

  
Bando hated her from the moment she first appeared. Kotani looked like she had just walked out of a horror film.

To add insult to injury, Professor Yokoyama made Bando move, letting Kotani take her place. She spit on her desk first, quietly, before she gathered her books and left. She watched eagerly as Kotani noticed, and only Bando understood the nearly imperceptible pause Kotani made, mid-swipe across the surface.

She delighted in imagining her spit coating Kotani's filthy fingers, and she was also angry. Kotani should have been forced to deal with it, with sitting in a place that was low enough to be spit on. She should have had to stare down at the mess Bando had made the entire lesson. She should have known that she was worth less than Bando's spit.

But Kotani wiped it away without a word. Bando hated her even more.

The time passed easily for Bando. Each day was filled with new opportunities for torturing the girl who had done so much to get under her skin. She was proud of the way she had planned 114, and she convinced herself it was pride that made her chest feel so tight when she watched Kotani hear the news.

She was surprised when Kotani spoke up about it.

"Can I talk for a minute? Just with Bando-san…"

Bando's heart was thumping against her chest in an uneven pattern of skips and jumps as they made their way outside. She had never known what to expect from this girl, and she hated it. Bando hated her for sticking out, for mattering to her. She never wanted to care.

They were alone here, and Kotani still wouldn't look up at her.

"People can change," she said.

Bando wanted to hit her.

Kotani started to talk about her boyfriend, like she understood, and Bando was already walking away. Her eyes burned with tears and she wondered how she had become like this.

"People can change," Kotani called after her, but Bando couldn't turn around now. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, and she couldn't let Kotani know.

She'd leave him tonight, she decided. People could change, but he wouldn't.

Bando could.

She'd never be able to say why she really let the flowers fall over Kotani that day.

She remembered, though, the expression of wonder on Kotani's face as Bando left the stage. She remembered the way that Kotani looked, crushing fistfuls of petals and almost smiling down at them. No one had ever been this happy about Bando choosing them. She had never made anyone look like that before. Kotani looked like she really was in love.

Bando had to put a stop to it.

She caught them on the roof the next day. It was stupid of them, to think that no one had noticed them sneaking around together. Shuuji made the worst expression of surprise when he realized he'd been caught with his secret friends. He was immediately stuttering excuses to her, but Bando didn't care about him.

"Kotani," she said loudly, for the girl was staring off into the distance, focusing on far-off rooftops. She pretended not to hear, and Bando's irritation grew as she noticed a flower tucked into her doll's hair.

Bando shoved forward, pushing Shuuji impatiently out of the way to swat at Kotani, to force her to look at her. "Have you never seen flowers before, or something?"

Kotani turned but refused to look up, staring down under her curtain of hair, the eerie doll still clutched in her hands. "I…"

Bando nearly ripped the doll from her fingers. She wanted to throw it over the edge. She hoped that she could break it, someday, that Kotani would let it go.

"I think it's important," Kotani said slowly, and as Bando reached for the doll, she darted neatly out of the way. Bando's fingers scraped concrete and Kotani stepped awkwardly away. "...to hold onto these moments," she continued, as if Bando had never lunged at her. "I think we all need to remember moments of hope."

"Ah-hah," she heard Akira say behind them. Bando turned in disgust, crossing her arms over her chest.

"If I had to do it again, I'd pour the water on you," she said.

Kotani nodded. "But you didn't. People can change."

"Not all people," Bando said. Kotani seemed to crumple a bit at this, her fingers scrabbling more desperately to stroke her doll's hair. Akira made a threatening gesture with his hands, and Bando rolled her eyes.

"Hey why don't we all go back now?" Shuuji suggested, clasping his hands together and smiling hopefully.

Akira nodded, jumping down from his perch and mimicking a fish as he followed a nervous Shuuji back towards the door. Kotani stayed where she was, though, and her hands had stilled.

They called back after her, but Kotani did not let on that she'd heard them. After a moment, she lifted her head, until she was gazing bravely back at Bando.

"How did it feel?" she asked, and something inside of Bando sunk. She would do the flowers again, she would always drop the flowers. She would never take it back.

"Boring," she lied.

"Tell me the truth," Kotani said in a rush, and her lips trembled, a poor imitation of a smile.

"Better," Bando said, surprising herself.

Kotani grabbed her hand suddenly, pressing a flower against Bando's palm. Her fingers rested there, gently pressing against her hand until Bando's fingers curled around them, and then they slipped away, leaving the flower behind. Bando stared down at the wilting petals of the Tsutsuji in wonder as Kotani trotted off after her boyfriends. She held it for a while, dizzy with conflicting, confusing emotions. She had changed. She opened her hand, holding it out over the edge of the roof, and watched as the wind carried her flower away; a delicate, twisting beauty falling away on a breeze.

It wasn't until she was turning to leave that she noticed the doll. Kotani had let go of it after all, and she'd left it on the edge of the rooftop. Bando stared down at it for a long, silent moment before she picked it up.

Yesterday, she would have thrown it over the edge and not looked back. Tomorrow, she would wish that she had. But today, she'd take it home with her; a little delicate piece of Kotani, and the girl that Bando wished she could become.


End file.
